Saving Male Pride
by MercernaryGirl13
Summary: After a wounded Dempsey reacts childishly to Takeo, who is trying to help bandage him, Takeo takes extreme measures to save Dempsey's male pride, or whatevers left of it anyways...  rated T to be safe!


"Fuckin' A! Thundergun!" Dempsey yelled, mostly to brag to his allies about his awesome gift from the random-as-hell box that was mostly crappy to them. Most of the shit that came from the box were things with either not that much ammo or take forever and a day to reload. In fact, the only way they could stand the reloading is if they had Speed Cola, but unfortunately the soda made the insane Nazi doctor go extremely hyper. Speed Cola must have some strange shit in it. Hell, they didn't know what was in it, it was the effects that mattered. Not the taste *cough cough* Quick Revive *COUGH!*

"Oh, zen I guess you aren't jealous of mein ray gun?" Richtofen too bragged about his amazing weapon, making gestures around the high tech patterns. It had obviously been Pack-A-Punched, but it still seemed better than a Thundergun, even if it only took out one zombie at a time. "Do you like mein glowing green balls?" the Nazi loudly giggled as he went trigger happy on the train Nikolai had worked up as he downed Vodka, shooting even more holes in the ceiling with his Spectre and yelling random Russian words, "Boдka!" being the main word spewing out of his mouth.

"Vunderbar vork Nikolai! Excellent!" the Nazi praised as the final zombie fell. Nikolai waved it off with a stupid, drunken grin plastered to his face.

"Hey Richtofen, I think I found something interesting. Come with Nikolai to see?" the Soviet shrugged, his grammar bad as usual, but at least Richtofen wasn't a grammar Nazi.

Dempsey groaned loudly, no zombies to watch flying through the air. The Marine scraped his boots along the battered wood and forced himself to trudge over to the windows for much needed repairs. Before he was able to prod at the broken boards to check for any ones in usable condition, a loud growl from behind and blinding pain rippling through his right arm. His teeth ground together painfully as his flesh was torn free, a zombie clawing at his arm. The Marine yanked his arm to be cradled as his foot instinctively shot up to boot whatever was there. Tank cried out and fell as soon as the zombie was double beaten to twice it's death, his arm stinging terribly. With how much opening and dirty walls, it probably wasn't a good idea to be leaning an injury on a dirty surface. Dempsey sat and waited for Nikolai to come play cards with him, but the drunkard didn't show. Maybe his torn arms sickened his allies, except Richtofen. He probably made his secret dream come true. The Marine groaned as he laid back more into the wall, staining it dark red.

"Fuck..." he groaned, closing his eyes and cradling his bleeding appendage. What he wouldn't give for morphine. Something nudged his boot and muttered something Japanese in distaste. Dempsey's eyes opened to the Jap holding a hand in front of his face, possibly to say, here, I'll help you up. Though cautious, he reluctantly took the warrior's hand and gingerly stumbled to his feet. Takeo inspected the wound and clicked his tongue.

"The doctor wourd not want to heal this," he looked deep in thought and cursed. "Well, come upstairs and I'll help you."

Dempsey growled, a low rumble signaling his own distaste in treatment. He still didn't fully trust the Jap, but enough to stalk after him as his ally turned on his heel and led the path to his makeshift medical room. Dempsey should have been grateful for help, but being full of himself, he was displeased. He was a Marine! He could handle anything! Oohra-OW! Damn arm...

Takeo took notice of the pain from Dempsey's hiss and was not foolish enough to believe it a snake. Wise as a turtle, strong as an ox. Small but powerful, so Tank didn't feel any need to pick a fight with the shorter of them. He tried not to recoil to Takeo's inspections over the oozing wound.

"Goddammit Tak! I'm fine! I just need to shoot more freakbags is all," Dempsey growled like the Hellhounds and shied away from Takeo's advances. Thankfully, it didn't take a close look to know what to do, Takeo turned to grab a worn down washrag and soaked it to near dripping with hydrogen peroxide. As soon as eyes laid on the materials, the Marine made a backwards dash, slumping against a box and snarled savagely.

"You. Will. Not. Touch. Me. With. That!" Dempsey exclaimed, emphasizing each word for added assertiveness, and Takeo knew that meant stay the fuck away! , and yet, his advances didn't slow. Takeo's brows furrowed and his mouth turned into a full frown. Why did Dempsey act like this? He was trying to help! The Jap decided enough was enough.

"Let me bandage you and I'll reave you arone."

"Not a chance in hell, you dirty Jap!"

Takeo clenched his unseen teeth and strode easily forward. Dempsey was preparing to strike the man, but his actions held back when Takeo suddenly sat down on his lap, legs on each side of Dempsey. The Marine's eyebrows skyrocketed into his hairline. What. The. Hell? Takeo's mouth pressed full onto Dempsey's, right hand snaking behind his head to pull closer, left hand taking advantage and pressing the dripping cloth to the wound. Dempsey yelled, or at least tried to, but with someone covering his mouth, it came out as a muffled groan that went on too long. Takeo's mouth opened to cover every inch of lip, applying more pressure to Dempsey's arm, burning with agony. The man had no tears to shed, but still expressed pain in other ways. He oddly found himself getting comfortable with this. He hadn't anyone to touch, to hold, to kiss in how long? Forever it must've been. Tank's conflicting emotions battled fircely, his left arm trailing up the slender body and gripping the fabric in a fist. Dempsey closed his eyes uneasily and pressed back into the motionless pair of lips, feeling the brush of Takeo's mustache on his own semi-facial hair. Peach fuzz counts right? It was darkening with time since shaving passing by. Tank's mouth opened to allow any advances, but Takeo's tongue remained where it should be, striking the Marine as odd. Why didn't Takeo use tongue? Oh, maybe he didn't know how to. Dempsey took it upon himself to urge the Jap on, tongue sliding over and prodding the other one, and yet, Takeo's tongue didn't move. Dempsey became a little agitated and pressed further into the still kiss, pain forgotten even with pressure added each minute, accepting the challenge of getting Takeo involved. Tank felt like he was kissing a corpse. Ew! A warm corpse. He would never do that, drunk or sober. The stillness was not comforting.

Takeo finished cleaning and quickly tried to bandage without looking. It felt like it was going good. In fact, Takeo's mind was thinking more about what he was fixing instead of what was obviously happening. Tank became restless and moved his hips gently upward, painfully aroused even if he was being denied. Takeo could barely control himself, fighting back a grin. The Jap removed his other arm from behind Dempsey's head and tied the bandage in a neat bow. The younger felt something hard prodding his backside.

Takeo slid his tongue to meet Dempsey's only briefly before shifting to pull away, almost unsurprised to find the eager Marine's lips attempting to follow. Feeling like a bit of a bastard, the Jap removed himself completely from Dempsey, the now slightly damp washrag in hand and a smug look playing on his lips. Dempsey sat, still slumped on the box and feeling as pissed as ever. Takeo admired his handy work: his bandaging skills and what he had done to Tank. The Marine's mixed expression, drool from one or both of them hanging from his chin and his pants looking too tight for comfort. In fact, Tank wanted nothing more than to get out of them.

Tank was about to comment on being faked out, but Takeo beat him to the punch, with soft chuckles.

"Honestly Dempsey, do you really think I'd do something as dishonorable as that on my own?"

"Bu-but then why would you?" Dempsey questioned, distracted by what happened down south.

"Werr, let's say I was saving your male pride. A big, strong Marine rike you would be ashamed of your reaction to a simple swabbing."

Dempsey suddenly realized what he was talking about. How Tank reacted to the hydrogen peroxide was something a seven year old might do. Hell, if Takeo's mouth hadn't covered his own, he'd have a helluva time explaining himself. Takeo packed up the materials and stowed them under a chair, turning suddenly to walk over and stop at the threshold of the doors.

"Though I do realize, what I did was upsetting to you and I would feel dishonorable if I denied you. I guess if you were expecting more, I wirr be in my room."

As the Jap took his leave, Tank couldn't help but notice the flash of a smirk. That offer was easy to deny, but in the Marine's condition, it wasn't as easy. The Marine ground his teeth together, painfully aroused and pissed at Takeo; he was upset because Takeo kissed him but was also mad that Takeo didn't finish. Tank growled under his breath and hoisted himself to his feet, trudging down the halls and muttering insults Takeo would never hear.

"Fucking Jap..." were Tank's last words before slipping within the warrior's bedroom.

The next morning, Dempsey wouldn't stop smiling, even though his Thundergun was gone and now in the hands of a certain Jap.


End file.
